Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“M. Just the M.”
Zeke types it in and voila, we’re in. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Zeke asks and finds the banking app.
I walk toward Jones, pick up the chair and nod for the guard to sit him on it. He does but keeps one heavy hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve performed autopsies for The Society before. Your family has been providing the service for a long time.”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me about oleander.”
He looks at me, forehead furrowed, and I wonder about him. Wonder if he truly thought Bishop died of a heart attack.
“It’s a plant,” he says.
“And a…” I trail off, gesturing for him to fill in the blank.
“Poison.”
“Good. Working for IVI you’d know about those things.”
“There wasn’t evidence of any foul play,” he says. “Mr. Bishop’s heart gave out in the throes of a passionate event. There were witnesses. Multiple.”
“So I’ve heard but I’d rather not visualize it if you don’t mind.”
He grips the sides of the chair and waits for me to continue.
“There was only evidence of cardiac arrest. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Did you bother to look?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Did you bother, Doctor Jones?”
“I was told it would be best to move as quickly as possible and bury Mr. Bishop, considering how he died and the impact it would have on his son.”
“By whom?”
He draws his lips into a tight line and his gaze shifts away from me.
“By. Whom?”
“Ms. Bishop. Councilor Hildebrand agreed. There was no reason.”
“And who signed off on the cremation?”
He clears his throat. For a Sovereign Son’s body to be cremated, a Councilor and the coroner must both sign off. In this case, Hildebrand was said Councilor. Except I’ve seen his signature.
“Councilor Hildebrand,” he tries.
“So, if I were to ask the Councilor, he’d remember the event? He’s got a great memory I hear.”
He glances away, beads of sweat breaking across his forehead.
“Jericho,” Zeke calls out.
I leave the doctor and walk over to stand behind the desk. He points to a deposit in Jones’s bank account of $25,000 made from Carlton Bishop days after his death.
“Was Carlton Bishop very grateful for the service of the autopsy you conducted on his dead body or was it the speedy cremation?” I ask Jones.
“That was Ms. Bishop. She took over the account with her son being the heir but obviously so young.” Sweat rings are forming under his arms.
“And which was she more grateful for?”
He clears his throat. “I was told it would be better for the boy.”
I return to him, sit on the end of the coffee table again and get into his space. “Which was she more grateful for, Dr. Jones?” I ask, leaning close to him, letting him see how far I’m willing to go to extract his confession.
“She said she’d take care of Hildebrand’s signature after I signed off. She was going to see him anyway. I wanted to make a call, but it was late, and she insisted it had to be done.”
“And you felt it was fine to do after she deposited the money into your account?”
Now he swallows hard and sits very still as sweat runs down his temple.
I get to my feet, turn away to find Zeke watching, posture relaxed. He has a dark side, my brother, one he hides well. And the look on his face is the same as I’d seen on that grainy video in Austria. I give him a nod and he acknowledges the gesture. I then turn back to Jones who shifts his gaze from Zeke to me. I reach for his collar, haul him to his feet and slam him into the wall.
“You’ve wasted enough of our time. Running. Hiding like a fucking criminal. Booking a private plane to the Bahamas and making us come chasing after you. I’m going to give you a choice. One, answer the fucking question and we’ll be on our way or two, waste more of my time and I’ll have Hildebrand deal with you. I can tell you a Councilor will not take kindly to having their signature forged in an attempt to conceal evidence from The Tribunal. Which is it going to be?”
“That was her. Not me!”
“Go on.”
“She came to my house with two of her men. Big guys. Like you two. Like this one. Mean too. She wanted the body cremated. Said she changed her mind on the burial. And when I explained about The Tribunal, that a Councilor had to sign off, she lost her shit. It took one of those men to calm her down and that’s when she paid me the money. I didn’t ask for it. I swear. I was just scared. I signed off on what she wanted and when they left, I packed up and left too. I wasn’t running from you. I was running from her. From them. I was fucking terrified. She’s crazy.”